


...Until It's Perfect

by RenkonNairu



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, Lab Partners, Personal Revelations, Princess Prom, Procrastinating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-08 02:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20288938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkonNairu/pseuds/RenkonNairu
Summary: Hordak and Entrapta will keep working on the portal until it's perfect. After all, Hordak can't go home until it's perfect.





	...Until It's Perfect

Catra chose to stay in the Crimson Wastes with Scorpia. To rule the desert as Warlord and her Princess. They got their happily ever after. 

Adora was not dragged back to the Fright Zone. 

No deus ex First Ones Runesword was ever thrown at Hordak and Entrapta’s feet. 

The portal was never opened. 

Reality was never unmade. 

As Entrapta suggested, the pair just kept working on their project. Refusing to declare it ‘Done’ until it was perfect. It could not be done until it was perfect.

Hordak could not go home until it was perfect. 

…

“I’ve added new grounding stabilizers.” Entrapta was explaining. 

Hordak watched how her prehensile hair moved as she spoke. Pointing out on the diagrams and animations of the displays what the truly important details were. How the tendrils would curl around to frame one image, or thrust out and straighten like pikes to point out other details. No one in the Horde Empire possessed a physical attribute like that. This was something that could only be found on Etheria. This was something that could only be experienced with Entrapta. 

Once he left, he would never get this animated and enthralling briefing experience again. 

“That should prevent any future overloads and explosions, and also allow us to hold it open longer. Maybe not long enough for solid matter to pass through. But at least long enough for you to get your signal out. That way, at least- Hordak?” She paused in her rambling explanation. Hair stopped coiling and undulating around the computers display and instead frizzed out slightly with her sudden frustration. “Are you paying attention?”

He cleared his throat. Hordak hadn’t realized he was staring. Staring with an absurd expression of dreamy admiration on his face. “Ah, ahm. Yes. Your improvements appear sound in theory. We shall implement them immediately! I cannot return home until it is perfect!”

Off to the side, Imp fluttered down from the rafters to perch next to Emily. Both deamon and robot exchanged a look. As if they somehow knew more than their masters did. 

…

Talons clacked against the keys of a lab console as Hordak typed furiously. Line, after line, of complexed coding. In the peripheral of his vision, he saw a shadow of lavender and violet slink up around him. 

“What’cha doing?” Entrapta asked from above him. Her hair lifting her up to suspend her over the console so she could both examine the lines of complicated code, as well as look down into his face to read his expression. 

“I am composing the message we will send through the portal for Horde Prime.” He supplied easily enough. 

“Oh.” Entrapta looked at the lines of code again. They filled the whole screen. “I didn’t realize it had to be so complexed. I thought it was just gonna be a series of beeps. Like ‘SOS’ or something.”

Hordak’s taloned fingers paused, mid-typing. He looked back up at the lines of text he’d already composed. Then he looked away again, refusing to admit that he might be embarrassed. “The Emperor of the Known Universe does not answer to random beeps without context. He must know it is form me.” He informed her. “It must be perfect. I cannot return home until it is perfect.”

…

Entrapta set down her welding torch and lifted her mask to smile at her work. Using her hair to lift herself off the floor. “I think we’re ready for our next test. Pull the lever!”

But Hordak wasn’t looking at her. He had picked up something from the floor of her work station. Something on the floor suspiciously close to the waste bin, as if she tried to throw it away but missed. An ivory colored envelope bade from heavy cardstock. He opened it to discover an invitation to a gathering of some kind. 

“Oh, that.” Entrapta had slunk up beside him, her hair never making a sound as she moved. “You can just throw that away.”

“What is this?” He asked, genuinely curious. It was not an invitation to any event in the Fright Zone. The fact that no paper so nice existed in the Fright Zone aside, the invitation stated that the event would be held in Plumeria. A territory of Etheria that was in open resistance of the Horde. Why would they be sending invitations to gatherings to someone they knew was working in collaboration with the leader of the Horde?

“It’s just the traditional invitation to Princess Prom.” Using a single tendril of hair, Entrapta snapped her welding mask back down over her face –although, there was nothing left that needed to be welded. “They only sent it to me because I’m a Princess. They have to. But I wasn’t going to go.”  
Hordak watched her pitter around the lab, her mask down over her face. A coping mechanism he noticed she did only when she was about to feel difficult emotions. It hurt her to receive the invitation. Why? Because she had placed herself on the other side of the line. Because she was in league with the enemies of the Hostess and probably every other Princess there? Was she afraid they would ostracizes her if she did attend? If they did, they why invite her at all? Because of the convention of ‘tradition’.

“What do you do at this… Princess Prom?” He heard himself asking slowly, turning the invitation in his hands. 

“Me? Mostly I just people-watch.” Entrapta explained. Then lifted her mask to smile at him. “Princess Prom is the best social experiment on Etheria! So many people all shoved into one room together. Competing motivations and desires, everyone’s the same rank and royal status, but social hierarchies form, relationships are formed or destroyed, it’s very exciting!”

It sounded like an average political affair to Hordak. Not unlike some of the state dinners or court hunts Horde Prime hosted back when Hordak was in favor as top general at the Emperor’s right hand. But that wasn’t the part that he focused on, all Hordak heard was that nobody interacted with Entrapta. Even before she took up residence in the Fright Zone. 

For some reason, that made the dark Lord’s hackles rise. How dare they snub so brilliant and clearly superior a creature as Entrapta! This would not stand! 

According to the invitation in his hands, Entrapta was allowed a plus-one. She could bring one guest of her choice. His thin lips curled into a smile. “Imagine how much more exciting the experience would be if you were to arrive with the Lord of the Horde as your companion.”

Her eyes lit up, excited. She did actually want to go, and his offer to go with her made her happy. Hordak felt an off warm fuzzy feeling in his chest when she smiled and he feared his implants, or perhaps the new exo-suit might be malfunctioning. 

“Really? You’d come with me?” She said through a smile. “I’ve never had a date to Prom before! One year I tried bringing one of my robots, but they made me check him at the door. Apparently, robots and non-sentient constructs count as ‘weapons and accessories’, not guests.” 

“They cannot make you leave me at the entrance.” Hordak proclaimed. “I will not allow it!”

She was smiling so wide now. She was so happy. But then Entrapta’s smile faultered, her mile-a-minute mind reminding her that they had other priorities. “But what about the portal? If we go to Princess Prom, we’ll lose a whole day of work.”

“An acceptable delay.” He assured her. “When Horde Prime comes through the portal to collect me, he shall see the state of things here. He shall see that I am… delayed in my conquest. Since the militaristic approach has not worked, diplomacy must become a viable option. Everything must be perfect when we open the portal. I cannot go home until things are perfect.” 

…

The look on the Princesses’ faces alone made the break from the portal project and the trip from the Fright Zone worth it. 

Hordak did not like Plumeria from the first moment he set foot within its borders. It was early evening by the time they arrived at Princess Prom. The event was held outside. With delicate tiny fairy-lights strung between the trees, tables draped in natural linen with sage burlap table runners, the music was lutes and harps playing a gentle –bland- melody, and all the offered food was not only vegetarian but vegan as well. 

As per custom, Entrapta and her plus one approached where Perfuma sat under her Heart Blossom tree, to give the traditional greeting to their Honorable Hostess. 

Hordak gave a measured bow of the appropriate depth and held it for the appropriate count of seconds. He had been a general on the Imperial cabinet, he studied the rules of etiquette for this event the same way as he would any pertinent intel prior to a military strike. When he raised his head, it took every ounce of carefully drilled military discipline not to smirk at the blond tree-hugger Princess. 

Brown eyes wide with shock, freckles colored red emotions she was trying hard to conceal. As Hostess of this event, she had to maintain composure at all times and not offend or alienate her guests just as much as her guests could not offend or alienate her. “Uh- I-“ She cleared her throat. “I welcome you under the Ancient Rules of Hospitality. Leave conflict at the door and please enjoy the Ball.”

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. Hordak wanted to wait there a moment longer just to make the Princess more uncomfortable. 

“Thanks!” Entrapta wrapped tendril of hair around Hordak and pulled him away from Perfuma, almost pulling him off her feet as she did. “I can’t wait to compare the data of this year’s Social Experiment to last year’s!”

She pulled Hordak over to the buffet table. A long spread of cucumber and non-dairy cream cheese sandwiches, radish rosettes, avocado toast, stuffed mushrooms, spinach puffs, and a boring vegetable tray with a dip. There was absolutely nothing on the table Hordak could eat –Horde Clones being carnivores by nature. 

But Entrapta filled a side pouch of her overalls with spinach puffs and tiny sandwiches. All the while talking into her recorder. “Tensions are already high and we’ve only just arrived.” She narrated. “Perfuma was visibly upset by my choice of guest, but under the Ancient Rules of Hospitality couldn’t turn us away. Results to follow.” 

She switched off the recorder and beamed up at Hordak. 

He couldn’t help smiling back at her. 

The recorder was slipped back into another pocket of her overalls. “Thank you for coming with me. This is… I’m so used to coming to these things alone, and I just-“

“I can’t believe you!”

The angry shout drew both their attention. 

Glimmer, Princess of Bright Moon stood in a ball gown, flanked by former-Force Captain Adora, and the Rebel Archer Bow –similarly dressed in formal wear. The Princess’ shoulders were hunched, her eyes hard, teeth bared as if she were readying for a fight. Glimmer fumed at them. “How could you bring him as your plus one!? After everything he’s done!”

The recorder was back in Entrapta’s hand as Hordak just stood there, unsure as to what he should do. His base instinct as a Horde warrior was to dispatch the hostile element with extreme prejudice. She was very clearly threatening his… companion. But the calculating general part of his brain had to hold him back, remembering that conflict within the ball was expressly forbidden. Besides, he was here for Entrapta and Entrapta did not seem to feel particularly threatened. 

“Hostilities rise as old grudges bubble to the surface.” She narrated into her recorder. “More than just Perfuma are upset by my Guest’s presence.” 

“Do you even care?” Glimmer demanded. 

Entrapta tapped her chin, looking up in thought. “Well… you guys didn’t seem to care all that much when you left me in the Fright Zone, so…”

Glimmer could only growl. 

Adora stepped forward. “We didn’t mean to abandon you!” She insisted. “We thought you were dead!”

“Based on what evidence?” The tone Entrapta used when she demanded that was almost regal. Hordak knew she was a Princess and ruler of her own Queendom of Dryl, but that was the first time he’d ever actually seen her act or sound like a Queen. 

“We saw you die!” Adora insisted. 

“But I didn’t die.” Entrapta reminded her. “So what did you see?”

“Well, the blast door slammed shut behind us before you could get out, then it was purged and- we just-“

“So, you didn’t see anything.” Entrapta crossed her arms over her chest with the conclusion. “You just assumed I was dead and wrote me off.”

“That’s not-“

But they were cut off again when the crowd breathed a collective gasp. The latest guests to arrive and pay their respects to Perfuma as the Honorable Hostess were two people they did not expect to attend either. Hordak thought they were dead. Adora thought she’d never see them outside of the Crimson Wastes again. 

Scorpia, with Catra at her side, were just straightening from their ceremonial bows to Perfuma. 

Hordak had to suppress a snort of irony. “This event is just full of reunions.”

“Catra!” Entrapta went sprinting over to her friend. “You’re alive!”

Before the others were even aware of it, Glimmer, Bow, and Adora were left alone with Hordak. The trio stared up at the Lord of the Horde. He was tall, but somehow seemed less imposing hallowed by the fairy lights of Plumeria’s trees. 

There was a pregnant pause in which no one said anything. 

The Bow, ever the arbiter of peace, gave an awkward little chuckle. He lifted the veggie tray off the table. “Carrot stick?” He offered to Hordak. 

The Lord of the Horde just brushed past him to rejoin Entrapta as she caught up with her other friends. 

“Yeah…” Scorpia was saying. “Things were just going so great for us in the Crimson Wastes that Catra and I just decided to stay. She’s practically Warlord of the Wastes now. And I’m her Princess. We’ve even got a kid!”

“Really?” Entrapta’s eyes lit up upon hearing that her friends were no only alive, but also happy, healthy, and thriving. 

“Yeah!” Scorpia reached into her clutch purse and pulled out a pocket holo-projector. She pulled up the image of a tiny baby, with fuzzy pointed cat ears and a scorpion tail. “She’s only six weeks old, it’s hard being apart from her. That’s why we’re late, and we’re gonna leave early too. I just wanna hold her all the time! Ya know.”

Catra caught someone else approaching their group and turned to face them, a scathing smirk pulling at her lips. “Hey, Adora.”

The former-Force Captain stopped short. “Catra.”

There was another pregnant pause in which nobody said anything. Adora’s eyes flicked to the picture Scorpia was holding. Of a new born infant, balled thus far, with Catra’s fuzzy brown ears, and Scorpia’s red poison tail. They did not have pincers, but the fingers of the hands were fused together to give the appearance of pincer claws. Scorpia and Catra’s daughter. 

Adora’s eyes flicked back to Catra. “I’m glad you finally found happiness.” She said. Then ran back to Bow and Glimmer. 

The recorder was back in Entrapta’s hair. “Ooh… feelings are hurt as old friends move on from past rejection.”

“Still stealing food and spying on people.” Catra observed, smiling at Entrapta. “Nice to see somethings never change.”

“Oh, but something has changed!” Announced the eccentric scientist. She wrapped one tendril of hair around Hordak’s arm and pulled him closer to her. “I have a date!”

Catra looked up at him. Just as tall as he always was, but somehow less intimidating in the soft lighting with the gentle sound of lutes and harps wafting around them. “Lord Hordak.”

“Force Captain Catra.” He nodded back, wondering if he should bring up the fact that she and Scorpia basically deserted the Horde and remind her that they had penalties for desertion. 

“It’s ‘Warlord Catra’ now, actually.” She corrected him. “I’m ruler of the Crimson Wastes.”

“Hey! Maybe the Crimson Wastes could make a treaty with the Horde!” Scorpia suggested happily. 

Hordak paused before shooting the idea down outright. He did tell Entrapta before coming here that the military approach hadn’t worked. That he needed to try diplomacy instead. The Crimson Waste was as good a place as any to start. He could not face Horde Prime as a failure. Everythign had to be perfect when they opened the portal. 

He could not go home until it was perfect. 

…

The day after Princess Prom they both rested for the majority of the day. The only time spent in the lab was when Entrapta had to recalibrate Hordak’s exo-suit. All the pollen in the air in Plumeria hadn’t done any favors for its filtration systems. 

Aside from that, the majority of the day was spent in restful relaxation. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind that we didn’t work on the portal at all today?” Entrapta asked when a soldier brought their dinners to the throne room. 

Hordak waited until the soldier was once again out of the room before answering. “It is fine. You are of no use to me if you are exhausted from yesterday’s frivolities. We shall return to our work tomorrow. The portal must be perfect.” He reminded her. “Otherwise I cannot return home.”

Imp fluttered down rom the back of the throne to sit on Hordak’s thigh. Opening his mouth, the little deamon threw the dark Lord’s last word back at him. ‘Home, home, home.’

…

“We should move it outside.” Hordak suggested. 

“Huh?” Entrapta blinked at him. She was about to switch it on so he could send his signal though. “Why?”

“When Prime opens it from his side, he will send his army through.” Hordak reminded her. “I cannot have dreadnaughts and capital ships materializing in my lab. The portal needs to be moved outside.”

Hard to argue with that logic. After sending the initial signal, whoever was on the other side would seek out their portal as a sort of ‘receiver’ to connect to the other side. The portal could not be inside the central Horde command building when things started coming through it. “Okay.”

They spent the entire rest of the day moving the delicate equipment outside, enlisting Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio to help them. 

By the time it was done, everyone was exhausted and Hordak’s exo-suit needed to be tuned again. They did not switch the portal on and send the signal through. The soldiers were dismissed for the night and Hordak retired to his Sanctum to be attended to by Entrapta. 

But that was okay. Hordak was not frustrated. Taking their time and doing things right just means that, when they finally did switch it on, it would be perfect. Hordak could not go home until it was perfect. 

…

They didn’t work on the portal the following day either, because the party from the Crimson Wastes arrived to negotiate their treaty with the Horde. 

Hordak spent the entire day sequestered in lengthy meetings about weapons exchange, technology sharing, intel on She-Ra and the First Ones, what benefits the Horde got out of the arrangement, what benefits Catra expected out of the arrangement. 

Hordak didn’t even get to see Entrapta all day, never mind work on the portal with her. 

But the next day… the next day found them both outside, at its new location. 

Entrapta double checked the connections to the power source, while Hordak ran one final diagnostic of his transmitter and message. 

He looked up at Entrapta, focused on her task. Eyes bright with enjoyment of her craft. Hair undulating with her motion, deftly moving at their detailed work. 

He could not take Entrapta with him when he returned to the Horde –to the real Horde, the Empire. She wouldn’t have a place there. They had their own scientists. They had no use for small alien tech-gremlins with no concept of fear or personal preservation. Entrapta would not last a week in Horde Prime’s court. 

“Wait!” He found himself barking at her. 

“Huh?” She looked up at him, confused. “Something wrong on the diagnostics?”

Hordak froze, unable to put these strange alien feeling he was having into words. “I can’t-“ He faltered. The Horde did not teach vocabulary to describe these symptoms he was feeling. “The color. The casing.” He said instead. “The portal looks cobbled together out of garbage!” Because it was cobbled together out of spare parts. “The Emperor of the Known Universe cannot come through this! It must be prefect. I cannot go home until it is perfect.”

…

The next day, Entrapta cornered Hordak in his private chambers, before he even rose out of bed. 

“Morning!” She hung half out of an air vent above him, shocking him awake. 

“Entrapta!” Hordak pulled the blankets up around his chin to cover himself. He wasn’t sure what rules of modesty she was used to on this backwater mud ball of a planet. But where he was from, males and females did not just drop in on each other in their bed clothes! (Or lack of clothes.)

Swinging on her hair, Entrapta dropped down from the vent to land on the foot of his bed. “I painted the casing on the portal.” She informed him. “It’s red. Red and chrome. It should be fine for your Emperor. We moved it outside so the capital ships don’t destroy your base. You’ve already got your signal coded and ready to go.” 

He blinked at her. “Your efforts have gone above and beyond that of a-“

“So, it’s perfect.” She cut him off. “You can go home any time.”

It was perfect. He could go home.

Hordak stared at her. Fuchsia eyes bright with anticipation. Hair frizzed out with excitement. Perching on the foot of his bed on her toes. Usually Hordak abhorred shoes on his bed. But, when it was Entrapta… he seemed not to mind so much. It seemed… right, somehow. Her. Here. In his most private chambers, where he slept, and took off his exo-suit, and allowed himself to be most vulnerable. 

He had already allowed himself to be vulnerable around her before. It was that very vulnerability that prompted her to build him the exo-suit. It was a level of safety he could never and would never find in the Horde. Being vulnerable around her even made him stronger.

In a sparkling moment of horrifying clarity, he realized, all this time he spent saying he could not go ‘home’, he was no longer thinking of the Empire as ‘home’. 

“What if…” He began, doubting himself. But she would just hound him until he finished his thought. So Hordak pressed on. “What if I decided I was already home?”

Home was wherever Entrapta was. 

It was perfect. 

…

END


End file.
